CHAPTER 10
ACCEPTANCE AND MOVING FORWARD
Ron and I met with Sharon’s attorney in April and went over the necessary steps to dissolve the trust that had been set up for her to cover her expenses. We had to make arrangements to close both of her checking accounts, one for the trust and the other for her Social Security Disability. On May 3, 2003, we both went to the bank and closed both accounts. I knew this would be emotional for me, because it was yet another step in accepting the fact that Sharon was indeed no longer with us. I prayed that morning for the strength not to cry at the bank. When we got to the bank, I gave the necessary paperwork and Sharon’s death certificate to the customer service person. Throughout this process, I couldn’t look at my husband and kept biting my lip, because I knew if I did I wouldn’t be able to control my emotions and would break down in tears. Instead, I stared at the bank’s advertisement for their newest checking account and hoped the process of closing the accounts went quickly. When the accounts were closed, we left the bank and when we got to the car, we looked at each other and began to cry. It was yet another emotional closure we had trouble getting through.
Hanbleca this year was going to be May 14–18, 2003, and I decided to go again. I had made a commitment for four years in my lifetime, and this would be my third year. I needed another answer from Sharon, and that was where she wanted her ashes spread. There were other questions also, but that was my main concern.
In the past on Hanbleca I had gotten the answers I needed and was hoping so again this year, although my head was getting in the way again with all the same questions. Why put yourself through this again? Four days and nights alone in the desert without food and very little water. I must be crazy. But then I realized once again the connection I felt with spirit in the past and remembered the overwhelming sense of peace that I received from such an experience. Each experience provided me the answers I desperately sought.
On May 12, 2003 Ron, our friend, Maggie, and I boarded the plane to Albuquerque. In addition to asking where Sharon wanted her ashes spread, I needed to know if she was okay. My third question was about a dream I’d had several months previous where I was on a journey sitting on a rug and was taken across the most beautiful clear aquamarine water I had ever seen. In the distance I saw a huge building sitting on the water. It is hard to describe, but the structure somewhat resembled a college campus building. The rug I was sitting on stopped at the entrance to the building, and huge doors opened. White marble surrounded me as I entered the building. It was clean and beautiful. There were classrooms of all white marble, and I sat down with a group of people in a semicircle. There was a nun to my right, and I was told I needed to make a contribution. I was confused as to what contribution I needed to make. My fourth and final question to be answered was, how could I bring my spirituality into my everyday life?
When we arrived in Albuquerque, the warm sunshine was inviting, and a sense of peace overwhelmed me. It was as if I were coming home again. I had always liked the desert, but my Hanbleca experiences, as challenging as they were, always provided me the answers to my questions and made me realize and understand more clearly who I truly was and gave me a clarity I had not found anywhere else.
The following evening, there was a meeting of the people and supporters who were going on Hanbleca. Chief Phil Crazy Bull gave us his reassurance he would be there with us each day, though we may not see him and advised us to remember that we are there to pray with the Chanupa and our prayers would be answered. Those of us who did not have Chanupas were given them to use for the ceremony. Mine was given to me by Becky and was gifted to the lodge and considered a lodge Chanupa. It was a beautiful Chanupa with an off pink color of alabaster for the bowl and the stem was made of wood. At the evening meeting, we put sage on the backside of the Chanupa and covered it with strips of color in green, blue, yellow, white, black, and red signifying the four directions and blue for above and green for below or earth.
At 7 am on May 14, the first day of Hanbleca, we met at the lodge. All of those going on Hanbleca participated in the Inipi sweat lodge ceremony of purification for two rounds and drank our last sip of water. We then left in silence unable to speak to anyone since we were in ceremony. There were several cars that took the supporters and participants to the mountain. The site of the Hanbleca was once again in the Sandia Mountain range in Bear Canyon. Bears, mountain lions, foxes, and other wildlife make their home in the canyon. Once we arrived at Bear Canyon, our supporters went up the mountain first to set up our Hochakas. My supporters this year were Chris and Ron. Chris carried up my backpack, which consisted of my sleeping bag and foam mattress, a change of clothes, raincoat (in case it rained, but it never did), toothbrush, toothpaste, my journal, pen, and other basic essentials. Ron put up my four willow sticks in four corners. The sticks were very thin this year, and I wondered whether they would stand up for very long. Ron untied my prayer ties and on one side put the red in the direction of the North, black in the direction of the West, yellow in the direction of the East, and white in the direction of the South. The fifth willow stick was put next to my altar, which consisted of a mound of dirt, and on the fifth willow stick at the top was placed a blue prayer flag and at the bottom a green prayer flag. On the fifth stick I also tied two eagle feathers, which had been gifted to Ron and me by Chief Phil Crazy Bull two years ago. Each person’s Hochaka was exactly the same, except that each person might be facing in a different direction, and this was chosen by the Chief. Phil prayed with each person once their Hochaka was set up starting from the top of the mountain down. When Phil came to my Hochaka, he told me I was a very judgmental person, and it is because I judge myself harshly. He said I should tell people who I am. I told him that when I have dreams about others, I would hesitate to tell them if it involved something bad about them. I asked him if I should tell them. His reply was, “Yes.” He said, “People shouldn’t always be led to believe life is always good. They need to know the bad things as well.”
After Phil left, I looked around my Hochaka. I saw a large piece of dead wood. There were blades of grass also dead and brown. The thought came to me, “Dead but still here.” This reminded me of Sharon. The day was warm with some clouds in the sky, and I sat and prayed with my Chanupa most of the day. There was a lizard that appeared, but it soon disappeared when I moved. There were small flies all day buzzing around my head. I noticed the more I put my hand up to push them away, the worse they got. At first they were annoying, and then I thought as they buzzed around my head they sounded like violins, and then it was easier to cope with them.
By afternoon the first day, my mind started to wander and my thoughts were, “Why am I doing this? I could be enjoying myself on a vacation.” I then began to pray once again with the Chanupa asking for my mind to be quieted and asking for my spiritual purpose. Just then a large eagle made a noise in the sky and flew in a circle in the sky several times over where I was praying. The eagle is sacred to Native Americans and of great spiritual significance. I no longer thought about why I had come here but instead continued to pray. Late that same day, as I was sitting on my sleeping bag in my Hochaka, out of the corner of my eye I saw what seemed to be a Native American running through the bushes. I looked again in the same direction, and the person was gone. Right after that, again in my peripheral vision I saw a black dog come into the area of my Hochaka. For a brief moment I wondered what a dog was doing there. I looked again, and it was gone. The only thing I could connect this to was that perhaps the native American I saw was indeed a spirit and the black dog was a dog we’d had for eighteen years and had died three years previous. By now the sun began to set and I climbed into my sleeping bag. This was the end of day one of my Hanbleca, and I lay down and went to sleep.
Day two of Hanbleca began with raindrops falling on my face, a welcome relief with hopes of enough rain to quench my tremendous thirst. But as soon as I arranged my tarp over me and arranged my abalone shell I had brought which could catch water, the rain stopped. I uncovered myself from under my tarp, and there were a few drops of water, which I quickly tried to put to my lips, but I was disappointed, and the thirst returned quickly. A few drops of rain came again, but it was like someone teasing you with something you could not have. I got up out of my sleeping bag, took my Chanupa, and began to pray. I prayed that I might come to understand where Sharon wanted her ashes spread and asked if she was okay. I also prayed that I might be able to bring my spiritual beliefs into my daily life and have balance in my life. The message quickly came that I didn’t need to be as busy as I was and that I just needed to do nothing, to sit on my bench, which was in the backyard of our home in a garden area. I needed to look around and quiet myself. Also, the thought came that I shouldn’t limit myself but instead try new things.
All of a sudden the wind picked up and became very strong. My willow sticks blew violently in the wind, and I thought they would break. Two of them fell over, and I tried to secure them firmly with rocks. One of my yellow prayer flags blew into the rocks outside of my Hochaka. Several times I put the willow sticks back up, and each time they blew down. Each time I fixed one thing, something else would blow down. Next, the top cover of my sleeping bag blew off. Finally after several unsuccessful attempts, I sat on the rock outside my Hochaka exhausted and gave up trying. The thought came, “You do not have control,” and I was wasting a lot of time and energy trying to control things. The thought also came to me that I had no control over what happened to Sharon. That afternoon as I laid on my sleeping bag, I saw several visions in the sky. I saw Sharon come out of a large door and walk toward me. Alongside the path where she was walking were several other figures. I knew she was in a heavenly realm surrounded by other spiritual beings. As I looked at this vision, I felt very peaceful and knew she was okay.
I saw her again, but this time she was a very large figure coming down toward a person lying down which I felt was myself. I knew she was around me, and I felt safe and peaceful. The wind lasted all day, and by the position of the sun I guessed it was about four o’clock. A very strong wind picked up, and the trees around my Hochaka blew much like winds in a hurricane. Earlier in the day, I had prayed for the ability to bring my spirituality into my daily life. As I watched the wind blow the trees violently, the thought came to me, “When everything around you is crazy and chaotic and you can remain at peace, you have brought your own spirituality into the world.” Another thought came to me also, “Everyone has a story. It is like a script you are playing. You are not who you think you are and neither was Sharon. Write and publish her story.”
Thursday night was very cold and windy. I put on two fleece coats, fleece pants and hat and climbed into my sleeping bag. I began to have chills that lasted for some time and wondered why this would be happening with as much warm clothing as I had on. This eventually passed, and I went to sleep.
Early Friday morning, day three, I awoke and turned over on my left side. Suddenly I experienced severe chest pain. I lay perfectly still hoping this would pass. The pain in my chest was so severe, I wondered if I could have been having a heart attack. As I lay perfectly still the thought came to me, “What better way to get your attention.” After what seemed like about an hour, I saw in the tree to the left of my Hochaka a scene taking shape. I saw a priest in a confessional and to the right of him a person talking through a small boxlike screen. The person who was talking to the priest had a stick right through his or her head. The message was immediate, “You need to forgive yourself. Stop thinking with your head. Be happy.” I had tried to push this aside for many months, but what was being told to me was entirely true. I had been in the medical profession for thirty-five years, and if I was completely honest with myself, I did feel guilty about Sharon’s death. I felt I should have advised her to get a complete physical and a CAT scan, but I relied on the doctors she was seeing and trusted in their judgment as to what was best for her.
I also recalled a dream I’d had the night before where I was in Tempe, Arizona, at a swim park that Sharon and Chris had gone to on occasion. I also saw someone dirt bike racing. As I thought about this dream Friday, I got the thought, “Sharon doesn’t really care where her ashes are spread, but you need to spread them wherever it brings you peace. Sharon liked Arizona…for the good times.” Other thoughts continued to come to me that morning.
“She is okay.” One by one, my prayers were being answered. Again, more thoughts came, “She is gone, but not forgotten. She will come again.” “Be not afraid, I go before you always. Come follow me.” In the same tree where I had first seen the vision of the priest and confessional, I now saw a turtle and the message was, “Go slowly through life.” Another vision came in the same tree of a child and a piano and the thought about helping children through a music program. Then another vision of a person in the tree pointing to the sky. I looked up at the sky and saw nothing, and then all of a sudden, there was trail from a plane, but the plane looked like a cross ascending high into the sky and the words came, “I’m OK.” All of a sudden, a song burst into my head and one I had not heard for a long time, “Please love me forever. Don’t stop thinking of me ever. Please remember me.”
I sat quietly trying to comprehend what had come to me. I remembered my Hanbleca the year before when a vision came to me of Sharon’s spirit coming out of the center of a Phoenix bird. I realized that we needed to spread the ashes in Phoenix. Since her accident, I had a bad feeling about Phoenix and didn’t ever want to go back there, but as I sat there I realized Sharon lived most of her life in Phoenix and liked Phoenix. She died in Phoenix. Her spirit left her body in Phoenix, but her body died in Portland, Oregon. I knew I needed to make peace with Phoenix. It had been our home for nineteen years, our kids had grown up there, and we’d had a lot of good times. My prayers and reasons for going to this Hanbleca had been answered. I knew in my heart she was okay. I now knew where her ashes needed to be spread. However, I still needed to work on bringing my spiritual beliefs into my daily life.
Friday afternoon, the third day of Hanbleca, was very hot. I tried to sit in different locations to be sheltered somewhat from the sun, but ultimately as the sun moved, I was left with no shade. As I tried desperately to find even a small amount of shade, the thought came to me: “Sometimes you need to stay in a situation for a period of time. Do the best you can with whatever you have and try and take one minute at a time.” I finally decided to try and lie down on my sleeping bag, since my back was aching, and I sheltered my face with a hat I had brought. The sleeping bag was hot as I lay on it, but it was the best I could think to do. I watched the position of the sun and wondered if I could survive this, since it didn’t seem to move at all as the intense heat beat down upon me. Finally after what seemed like hours, I looked at the tree in front of my Hochaka, and there was a little bit of shade. I sat up and tried to position myself so I had some shade. I took my Chanupa and prayed with it for the strength to survive. I looked at the Chanupa and asked if it had anything to tell me. The bowl part of the Chanupa was made out of a pink alabaster, and as I focused my attention on it, a picture appeared. It was the face of a woman who was suffering and in pain. Out from this face came a thin figure-like spirit with her hair on top of her head, and I knew it was Sharon, since she always wore her hair that way. As the spirit came out of the face of the woman, the words came to me, “She is free, be happy.” The picture on the bowl of the Chanupa began to change. I saw myself sitting down and holding a fish, and to the left of me was a tree. I saw Sharon peeking out from behind the tree, and next to her was a clock that read six o’clock. I tried to figure out what this was telling me and realized it was Friday, and that would account for the fish I was holding. Growing up in a Catholic family, we always had fish on Fridays. I felt that Sharon was nearby watching me, but what was the six o’clock meaning? I thought perhaps it meant she would come again in a vision around six o’clock; at least that was what I was hoping for. I thought I would probably stay the evening and leave the next morning, which would be the fourth day. I felt I could probably make it though the night, though with my back aching and as weak as I felt, I wasn’t sure. Another thought came to me that I always tended to push my body. I needed to recognize when to quit, and I needed to know my limitations. Just then to the left of me I saw a red shirt, and Chief Phil Crazy Bull came up the path. He was a welcome sight, and he had brought some water. I told him of my vision and that I was thinking of going down, but because of what I had seen in the bowl of the Chanupa I felt I should stay. He assured me that he thought the six o’clock time was Sharon letting me know he would be there, and indeed it was around six o’clock when he came up. He assured me I could go down and that Sharon would be in the Inipi ceremony that evening. I asked him if I could wait for him to come back and go down with him, but he said it would be a while, since he had to give water to all the other people on the mountain. With his assurance I decided to go down, but felt uneasy not knowing the way. He told me the way to go, and I asked him if I wasn’t down at the bottom of the mountain when he got there, to please look for me remembering the first year I had gone to Hanbleca and had gotten lost coming off the mountain. He agreed, and I closed up my Hochaka. I tried to put things away in my backpack as much as I could. I tied my white set of prayer ties to the willow, so the entire area was closed up. I took my Chanupa with me and headed down the path. I hoped I was going in the right direction and prayed as I took each step. “Tunkashila Ompa Wa.” I didn’t know where the words came from, but I repeated them each step down the trail. My hands were shaky, and I felt weak, exhausted, and prayed I would make it down okay. I followed the path, but it started to take me away from what I thought was the right direction and more into the canyon. I felt I was going in the wrong direction. I trusted my prayers and continued on the same path. It circled around and eventually led me on a path I felt familiar with. I could now see the house below and a car. I knew I would be all right. I looked up from the path and saw Ron’s car coming down the top of the hill to the area below where I was. He opened the door of the car, and I got in. My back was aching so bad, I couldn’t sit still. He gave me some water and that seemed to help the pain in my back. The more water I drank, I realized it wasn’t my back at all but my kidneys that were bothering me. We waited in the car thinking there may be other people needing to come down after Phil went up with the water to talk to each one of them. As I looked around, I could see visions all around me. I could see faces of people in the trees, in the sage bushes, in the sandy areas of the mountain. No matter where I looked, I could see these visions. The first year this occurred it was a scary experience for me, but I now realized it was a connection I had made to the spirit world.
One hour passed, and we saw Phil coming down the mountain with three other women. Ron drove all four of us back to the lodge, and we were immediately taken into the sweat lodge as we could not speak to anyone until we had completed the last two rounds of the Inipi ceremony. As I sat in the sweat lodge with the other women, I started to see several other visions. I looked around and noticed to my left a woman all in white in the sweat lodge leaning up against the back of the lodge, someone I had not seen before, and I realized she was a spirit. There were visions of people on the side of the lodge and on the rug in the lodge. I looked toward the entrance of the lodge, and there was a tiny figure about twelve inches high, something I had never seen before. One of the supporters stuck his head in and asked if the other women were okay, and I realized he didn’t see this twelve-inch little man at the entrance to the lodge, because he walked right over him. At this point I realized not everyone was seeing what I was seeing. Outside the lodge was another vision, a scene with someone in a bed and a woman attending to this person. I knew there must be a message in it, but I was too overwhelmed to think about it.
Phil came back to the sweat lodge area and began the last two rounds for the people who had come off the mountain that day. After the ceremony, we were able to eat some fruit and drink more water. From previous years, I realized that the water and food would start to ground me in this reality and the constant barrage of visions would cease slowly. I asked Phil about the visions I was seeing and people I didn’t recognize. He told me, “They are your ancestors and have something to tell you.” I asked about the little people I saw, since this was the first time I had seem them, and he told me, “They are the healers.”
That evening I took a warm shower. It was a welcome relief after three days. The water felt wonderful upon my skin, as did shampooing my hair and brushing my teeth. Before falling asleep the words of the song I heard on Hanbleca kept coming to me, “Please love me forever. Don’t forget me ever. Please don’t stop loving me.” I knew it must be yet another message from Sharon. I fell asleep and slept soundly for the first time in three days. The next day was the fourth day of Hanbleca. Ron got up at six o’clock in the morning and headed out to the mountain in case anyone else came down. I got up around nine o’clock, and again I heard the song, “Please love me forever. Don’t forget me ever. Please don’t stop loving me.” I looked up at the ceiling in the hotel room and the same song kept being repeated to me. There was a strong emotional feeling that came through, and I believe it was from Sharon. Ron called me about eleven o’clock and said he was headed back and asked if I wanted to have any lunch. Chris was also at the hotel, so we all went to lunch, and after lunch Chris went back to the sweat lodge area to work. Ron and I headed back to the mountain. The base of the mountain is where I wanted to be that day. I could still see some visions but not as much as the day before, and I felt peaceful and centered just being there. Late in the afternoon, another one of the Hanbleca participants came off the hill, and he was taken back to the lodge. Ron and I stayed until 7 pm.
As the sun began to set, we headed back to the sweat lodge, and when we got there, they had just begun the Inipi ceremony. Chris was learning how to attend to the rocks and put them in the sweat lodge for each round. Robert, one of the Native American elders, was instructing him on how to do this in the traditional way. We stayed outside and listened to the ceremony. At ten o’clock we headed back to the hotel to try and get some sleep before having to get up the next morning at six to meet at the mountain to bring down the rest of the Hanbleca participants who were still on the mountain.
It was 7 am when all the supporters and participants who had come down earlier were at the base of the mountain. The supporters left in a single line following each other up the mountain to get the rest of the people and to bring down their camping gear. One by one each person came down, and you could see in their eyes a transformation-like appearance. They had experienced what few people do, a connection with spirit. Something that words cannot accurately express. A disconnection with our reality and a clarity and knowing that there exists beyond this reality the spirit world with which we all have a connection if we but quiet ourselves and search out the answers.
As each person came off the mountain with the supporters, they were driven back to the sweat lodge to complete the last two rounds of the Inipi ceremony and Hanbleca. Once in the sweat lodge, each person if they desired talked about their unique experience. Once the Inipi was completed, each person came out of the sweat lodge and were greeted by the rest of the community.
Everyone then enjoyed the Whopila, a celebration of food and community that follows each Inipi. The people who had been on the mountain then sat down with their supporters in a circle and all smoked their Chanupas. People exchanged gifts with each other and their supporters along with Phil Crazy Bull who was presented gifts by the participants. It was twelve noon when all the festivities ended, and we returned to the hotel. I tried to take a nap but was unable to fall asleep, anxious to tell Ron and Chris about what had happened. The time passed quickly, it was around five o’clock, and we had to get ready to go to dinner. After having not eaten for three days, I found it difficult to eat anything except pasta and some salad. I knew from previous experiences my appetite would return, but it was best not to eat too much the first few days after coming off the mountain. Water was one of the only things I really wanted. Not having food was something easier to do than not having water. We returned from supper and started to do some packing since our flight left early the next morning.
Monday, May 19, we were up around seven o’clock, packed our suitcases, and headed to the airport. We stopped to eat something before boarding our flight and met two of our friends who had also been to Hanbleca and shared some of our experiences. Chris was headed back to Austin where he lived. We said our good-byes and headed toward our gate. I was sorry to leave the Southwest because of the experiences I’d had but anxious also to get home to my own bed and comfortable surroundings. I had arranged to take another week off from work, and from previous experiences knew it took me about a week to come back fully to my everyday reality.
Ron and I had had made plans to go the Oregon coast for a few days, and on Thursday May 22, we headed toward the coast. It took about an hour and half to get there, and along the way there was a bookstore on the Grande Ronde Indian Reservation, and we decided to stop. It was a used bookstore, and as I wandered the aisles, a book by James Van Pragh caught my eye. It was entitled Reaching to Heaven. I decided to purchase the book, and we got back in the car. I had brought two books with me intending to read them, but once at the coast, I picked up the book by James Van Pragh. It was a book about where spirits go after death, about guilt and forgiveness. It was about the spirits who have died and their message to those they have left behind. The words “Be happy” kept being repeated to me as I read this book. As I continued to read, the thoughts came again to me that I needed to forgive myself and that Sharon was indeed happy. I remembered my second year of Hanbleca when the vision I received from Sharon told me “There should be no guilt.” How could this book written by a gentleman who communicates with spirits be telling me the same thing I had heard on Hanbleca a few days before. I felt I had communicated with the spirits also and received the same message from my loving daughter. I now realized I was suppose to read this book. and it was no coincidence that we stopped at that bookstore along the way. I also came to realize that my Hanbleca experience was not just something that lasted four days, but an ongoing experience.